


A Common Pearl

by pearlfriends



Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Abuse, Disability, Discrimination, F/F, Homeworld Hierarchy (Steven Universe), Muteness, Pearl Solidarity (Steven Universe), Polyamory, Pre-War, Rebellion, Secret Relationship, Smut, Yellow pearl is a thot as usual but she gets better, blue pearl gets a sword because it’s totally a good idea, blue pearl is the last remaining emo of 2008, more tags tba, more than 20 chapters probably, there will be some major feels in here so slap on those diapers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-29
Updated: 2018-04-14
Packaged: 2019-04-14 11:56:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14135559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pearlfriends/pseuds/pearlfriends
Summary: The Diamonds' pearls have always been told that they're the best pearls on Homeworld, and have grown to look down upon others of their own kind. But when a bizarre, chatty, and seemingly fearless pearl accidentally enters their sights, they learn that there lives much talent on Homeworld outside of their bubbles -- and most importantly, that they're not as different from so-called 'common' pearls as they had originally thought.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> two pearls: -kiss-
> 
> me: yes, that's good. but we need something more.
> 
> three pearls: -kiss-
> 
> me: Hi, Google isn't working. Does anyone know where I can purchase more of this product? This is literally the best thing I have ever seen in my life. Please, I need it. Can someone please help me? Please, I need more of this in my life. I'd like to purchase it in mass bulk if at all possible. Hopefully free shipping but it's so beautiful I would honestly pay anything.

_“Have you washed yourself, Pearl?”_

_“Yes, my Diamond—!”_

_A single titanic finger descended upon Yellow Pearl’s head, forcing her breath out of her slight chest. She innocently fanned her thick eyelashes up at her master, but knew that no amount of pleasantry would ever change the simple truth that she was disposable. The pressure on her head was commanding and enormous. Even on its own, that finger was large enough to destroy her, and this unfortunate fate could strike at any second. An exceptionally bad day, a folder out of order, a minute too late, a pitch sung too high, and she would be smashed, reduced to a pile of shards, and a newer, better pearl would take her place. This was the reality of a pearl’s fleeting existence — and a reality all pearls had learned to respect the very moment they burst free from the water only to be greeted by an inspector’s greedy hands and shining lights, deeming them fit either for existence or for a hammer._

_Despite this brutal reality, Yellow Pearl considered herself lucky. Back when she had been formed, it was exceptionally difficult to create pearls of such high calibre, and many an attempt came before her that had not measured up quite the way she had. Perhaps her foresisters were a hair too short, had shoulders just slightly asymmetrical or noses not proud enough or shades of yellows too dim. Regardless of the exact reason, all that mattered was that they were ninety-nine and she was one hundred — a mastered formula — so she had flourished while they had perished. That, she thought, was the very definition of luck. Not to mention, though Yellow Diamond had bad days quite often, and though sometimes Yellow Pearl made grave mistakes that enraged her, she had been fortunate enough thus far to receive only electric shocks and impacts that left only light bruising as punishment for her shamefulness rather than death. This, too -- a session of pain over nonexistence -- was luck. Quite frankly, Yellow Pearl wanted to live._

_But this still did not change that reality: she could always be disposed of and made again. It was not death itself that Yellow Pearl feared, but the equality and sameness that came with it. Strip her of her light form, and she was no different than any other pearl on the planet: a nucleus, and layers upon layers of surrounding nacre. Once ruined, there was absolutely nothing inherently distinguishing her from the other ashes of ground up pearls that she would be tossed away with._

_The pressure on her head increased, and her eyes squeezed shut and she swallowed—_

_— but the finger upon her head merely gave a single, praising pull through her hair, and a silky “Good pearl,” rolled from Yellow Diamond’s lips._

_Yellow Pearl smiled, and her eyes opened again. Above all the others, this was easily the greatest example of her luck. Out of all the pearls on Homeworld, she had survived to become the pearl fortunate enough to serve Yellow Diamond: the most radiant, glorious and magnificent Diamond that walked the planet…!_

_Once again, Yellow Pearl had been spared, free to exist for yet another day as one of Homeworld’s four finest pearls and never any less._

 

* * *

 

     Yellow Pearl sprawled over a massive satin pillow. It was large enough to fit four pearls and then some, and was combined into four differently coloured sections: white, blue, yellow and pink. Normally she sat neatly contained within the yellow square, but at times like these when she was alone, she allowed herself to stretch across over to pink. If she was feeling brave, it was especially nice to see the pale canary of her legs spill out onto the white square without White Pearl herself barking nasally at her to move like she’d just kicked her in the stomach. And sometimes, when she was not alone but accompanied, she would dip a leg over and gently poke Blue Pearl in the back, trying to get a squeaky little rise out of her.

     This little tease had earned a variety of responses over the centuries. In the beginning it had been an act of malice and as such had earned malice back, scowls and huffs and gritted teeth. As time went on and laws were privately broken it became an act of flirtation. Blue Pearl’s cheeks had flushed warm and her neat lips had crept up just enough to be considered smiles, and that was how Yellow Pearl came to truly understand that she was not some kind of flat robot but an emotional being who felt and responded to both suffering and joy. And the moment that a laugh light enough to be dust had tumbled out of Blue Pearl and into her stifling fist, was also the moment Yellow Pearl knew that she liked her. Really liked her. Really liked her quite an awful lot.

     And nowadays, the infamous toe-poke was like jabbing a limp, abandoned, organic body to make sure it was still alive. Blue Pearl would turn and stared at her, unamused and apathetic, then turn back to her work. She took her calls without uttering a single word, forwarding them along in silence. It had been like this for a long time now — since the cage incident. Heart aching for the connection, Yellow Pearl worked hard to get another smile out of Blue Pearl. It had been so long that her own memories felt like legends, and she was beginning to doubt if it had ever happened in the first place. It had to be in there somewhere, certainly: that flame inside Blue Pearl, a tiny flame surviving the deluge…

     Yellow Pearl reached over and pressed a switch inside a small cavity in the middle of the pillow. Suddenly, a giant white pillar erected beneath the platform that the pillow rested on and shot her up through a hole in the ceiling. She was now contained in a small, cozy circular room that had nothing in it besides four giant screens, one screen facing each square.

     This was a Call Cubicle. The Diamonds’ pearls attended to rerouted calls here when their Diamonds were too busy to take them in the main control rooms and didn’t need them for any other duties. Usually this entailed simply acknowledging that a call was received and forwarding it along. If anything was particularly urgent — and most things were not at all particularly urgent unless Homeworld was about to explode — the pearls could override the muted line and place the Diamonds into the call. Yellow Pearl could not remember the last time this happened.

     It was incredibly bland work. By far the most irritating part that it was called a ‘Cubicle’ despite being a sphere. But she looked forward to this, because there were many pearls who called in for their master, and watching them shake and quiver in front of her served as endless entertainment.

     She sank into the pillow. It cradled and hugged her like a warm embrace. Her eyes closed, but she actively worked to keep herself conscious. She knew that if you kept your eyes closed for too long, the darkness would swallow you whole and take you to a different dimension where images played within your eyelids like screens. This, too, was something that Blue Pearl had recently taken on after the cage incident. She’d become a lazy slog, found snoozing at any interval where she had a lick of free time instead of using the opportunity to sing, dance, stretch, draw. Yellow Pearl wished to try it sometime, but it scared her out of her wits. What if she couldn’t come back from that dimension? Besides, it was not her place. That would involve slacking off, and slacking off would involve being a Bad Pearl, and being a Bad Pearl would involve being smashed and ground into a million average, indistinguishable bits.

     The diamond-sized keypad that fit into her lap suddenly began to vibrate. She shot up and saw that somebody was calling— _0999192214141_. The contact picture was a rose quartz, but the video feed itself pitch black. The caller had the camera covered. How odd. She shifted the communicator so that the only thing the other end would see was her upper body, and pressed 'Answer'.

     "This is the Yellow Diamond Communcation Line,” she said. "This is her pearl speaking. Yellow Diamond is currently out right now. Leave a message and I'll forward it along to..."

     Nobody's face had shown up yet. Suspicion roused in the pit of her stomach. The video feed then began to rapidly shake. It sounded like somebody was digging through a mountainous pile.

     “Hello?” Yellow Pearl asked. “Who authorised you to make this call? This line is for emergencies only. Did you try the other forms of communication?”

     The darkness suddenly cleared, and on the video feed was not a rose quartz, but a common pearl.

     Yellow Pearl fell silent and blinked, waiting for the inevitable squeak-and-dart. Pearls that were not as special as herself were not used to having screens pointed in their faces all the time, and were quite camera-shy. But unlike the many other pearls who had dialed this line, the one currently on the other end did not begin to tremble. Her teeth did not chatter. She showed no signs of bolting even in the face of a pearl that could spill her every sin to a Diamond.

     The two made eye contact and held it, and then that other pearl spoke.

     “Oh,” she said, one hand coming to cover her mouth. “Oh my stars. I. Called. Yellow _Diamond_. How? The communicator got buried under everything…but _how?_ I thought it only responded to fingerprints.” Her hand moved to cup her chin. “That’s very interesting…but concerning. Thank goodness you were there to meet me in the middle.”

     Yellow Pearl’s nose crinkled. A concoction of emotions brewed inside of her, and she decipher the ingredients. But one thing was for sure: this bizarre pearl was apparently not the common pearl that she had mistaken her for, for better or for worse.

     “I…suppose I should be going again.” The pearl looked around herself. “I have quite a lot of work left to do to clear this space. I—”

     “You talked,” Yellow Pearl said.

     “Hm?”

     “You. _Talked_.”

     “Yes, well, that makes two of us—”

  _What a pearl, Yellow Pearl thought guiltily. What a pearl. What a lovely pearl. What a curious pearl—_

     “What’s wrong with you?” Yellow Pearl barked, taking a pillow to her thoughts and holding it until they stopped kicking. “Some street pearl, chattering, prattling away to a Diamond’s pearl. Do you think I’m your friend?”

     The pearl recoiled, startled. “I…no, I, I don’t. But I talk to other pearls rather often for a bit of company when I’m lonely. We all understand each other quite well—”

     “Stop,” Yellow Pearl begged. “Stop it. Oh, make it _stop!_ You have a brain between your ears, don’t you? _Use_ it. I don’t want to hear some raggedy pearl wax poetic about her cozy friendships. I'm nothing like you. Understood?"

     And now that pearl's teeth were clenched, and her eyes were blue fire, and Yellow Pearl was scared because she had never seen a pearl so uncommon that didn't sit right next to her and take calls for a Diamond. "We're both pearls," the pearl growled. "I'm no different than you are!"

     Yellow Pearl shut the call off. Her heart was hammering so hard she thought it might leap through her throat. She was soaked in sweat and needed another wash. She looked down at her mustard-coloured keypad. Right in her lap was a swift bypass route past those massive, handprint-locked doors that currently contained Yellow Diamond., All she had to do was dial a number, give a quick report and that awful street pearl would be found and smashed. It was that easy. She would be praised and loved and adored for helping to keep Homeworld clean. The other pearls would be jealous.

     But she couldn't do it. She sat firmly planted on the pillow.

     She didn't know if it was bravery or stupidity, but she knew that a pearl like that had to be preserved, even if only to watch how her demise came about.

     The keypad vibrated in her lap again. She jumped.

     This time, it was a nephrite.

     She wished it were that pearl.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for some discussions of nonconsensual touching and general Homeworld awfulness. Nothing explicit, but the topic does come up, so be safe!
> 
> Have a wonderful day!

   The pearl never did call back.

   Yellow Pearl had given it time, but she knew in her heart that it was fruitless, and that she had nobody but herself to blame for it.

   Whatever. That pearl and her rebellious, flapping tongue deserved every last bit of lashing that was dished out to her. Maybe if she had so much as two brain cells pattering around in her skull, she would even take Yellow Pearl’s words to heart and clean her act up before she got herself destroyed. In spite of all of Yellow Pearl’s disgust, however, there was some kind of frightening pull deep within her, some kind of inexplicable, curious tug, a dim desire to meet the other broken freaks that lurked in the underbelly of Homeworld. This was how sin worked, wasn’t it? A delicious temptation, and fatal consequences.

   Thousands of years ago, White Pearl had told them all that the key to a pearl’s sanity and survival was to never, ever think. The words made sense now more than ever. What a dangerous tool, her mind was. A vivid image flashed through that very mind: a hammer, an angry Diamond, a pile of shards, equality. Yellow Pearl flinched, shuddered, and instantly turned the Communication Line off. Her finger had been hovering over the 'CALL' button on the keypad for so long that her hand was shaking, and she settled it atop her firm thigh instead. It left a wet smudge.

   She already had one secret, a skinny blue one with shaggy hair and long legs. She didn’t need one more.

 

* * *

 

   One of Blue Diamond’s massive fingers landed atop Blue Pearl’s head and stroked through her silky hair. In the past, the gesture would have filled Blue Pearl’s chest with blooming, proud warmth, but not any longer. She did not lean into the touch. A smile did not ghost her lips. Instead, her shoulders stiffened. Disgust brewed in the pit of her stomach. Her mouth went dry and sour, dangerous defiance threatening to spill from within.

   She did not want to be touched. She did not agree to be touched.

   And, worst of all, she had not been asked in the first place.

   This lifestyle had been a cozy one many, many moons ago. At a glance, it wasn’t hard to understand why. She was pampered. Spoiled. Adored. Certainly, she still had to work, answering calls and writing lists and cleaning rooms and opening doors and standing pretty like a Good Pearl...but like any Good Pearl, she was gifted with free massages and hot baths and endless praise. Many touted her as the best of the four Diamond-owned pearls thanks to her agreeable, passive demeanor — she was the least likely to ever bite back, in their eyes. When designing their very own pearls, the elites cited her.  _Make me an angel,_ they would say, pointing their greedy fingers at her.  _Like that one. Just like that one._  She was upheld so much that even when Blue Diamond was not accompanying her, when she was walking down the glass-paned corridors of the Diamonds’ palace alone, she still parted the quartz guards like the sea. They bowed to her as she approached, then glued their eyes to her ass once she had passed. It turned physical when a massive amethyst, sporting a goofy, mile-long grin, set her spear aside and opened her beefy arms to bellow: _“Heey_ _there, miss Pearl! How’s about a hug, eh? Huh-huh-huh!”._ The noise, more of a roar than a laugh, had been so deep and booming that Blue Pearl swore the planet itself had shook. Nonetheless, she had agreed to the contact because she knew that if she said no she would just be badgered until her answer changed, anyways.

   That amethyst had copped a feel, a nice tight palmful. They always did. 

   She still remembered the fateful day she had come into existence. Her gem had been spat out by the artificial mollusk her nucleus had been implanted into, and after taking her proper form with a flash of glowing white light, she emerged slowly from the shimmering blue-green water like some sort of ethereal spirit. She had swept aside the fringe pasted to her face to examine her soaking wet form, not even a minute into her existence and already checking that she was free from the imperfections that would cost her it. Blue Diamond had stood before her and appraised her silently before scooping her up into the palm of her giant hand once she was certain there was no need for a smashing. She had wept with pride, then, tears spouting from her eyes and her lips sputtering hoarse praise. She’d told Blue Pearl over and over that she was a flawless, perfected product, the very definition of a pearl. Blue Pearl, none the wiser, had lapped the attention up, happily settling into her purpose as a Diamond’s pet for all the millennia to come.

   It all changed a century ago when the Diamonds staffed a crucial meeting about their next colonisation plans. 

   For the duration of the meeting, Blue Diamond had kept Blue Pearl confined not within the usual network of behemoth buildings, but caged atop a platform smack-dab in the middle of one of Homeworld’s busiest town squares. An elegant cerulean cage that was covered by a sparkly sheer curtain during transport, as if dressing up her slavery made it better, but a cage nonetheless. She had told Blue Pearl that, like the perfect gem she was, she deserved to be shown off and adored, not hidden away. The citizens of Homeworld, unable to see Blue Pearl’s eyes or ears, had assumed that she lacked them entirely, and allowed her a taste of the worst they had to offer, spewing vitriol lie—

    _Hey, I heard that one can’t talk._

   after lie—

    _Like, at all?_

   after lie—

    _Yeah. It’s a good thing if it’s true, though. Pearls are whiny bitches. Friend of mine had one once — the thing was sad all the time and wouldn’t shut up. Maybe it was a broken one, but she got rid of her._

   after lie—

    _Should've given her a good beating. Would've fixed her right up._

   after—

    _I think that doll just stays quiet so she doesn’t get clocked. Pretty smart for a pearl. Cute, too. I mean, they’re all cute, but you ever seen this one walking from behind? Shit, her hips pop…_

   twisted—

    _Someone should just reach in there and grab her ass. Then we’d find out if she can squeak or not._

   deplorable—

    _Hahaha! Total slut, probably. They all are. That’s what pearls want._

   lie.

   Ironically, trapped in a claustrophobic cage with only her own mind, Blue Pearl had tasted freedom for the first time. Not a physical freedom, but a freedom of thought. As she listened to the cruel murmurs, the reality of her situation washed over her and dragged her under the waves to drown. She was equally as intelligent and aware as the gems around her, and yet, all thanks to the pearl embedded in her chest, she was locked up and put on display like a thing to gawk at. All thanks to that stone, she was free to touch, to grab, to degrade; and when she was violated, her offenders would not be charged for harming a gem, but for vandalising someone’s property. 

   She’d been given a voice, yet needed permission to sing.

   She’d been given a mind, but using it was the greatest sin of all.

   They claimed she was invaluable, that she was adored, but if she ever dared to voice opposition, they would dispose of her in a heartbeat. 

   The real cage was far bigger than she had ever expected, and she had been trapped within it from day one. The real cage was Homeworld itself.

   Blue Pearl, like most other pearls, was prone to intense daydreaming. The following years after that cage incident, she silently pondered the romantic idea of escape while standing by Blue Diamond’s side. She knew how to pilot a ship, but getting inside on her own and fleeing without being tracked on the radar was another story. She thought about offering those lewd gems her body for a night in exchange for smuggling her off planet on their next mission, but she was certain that they would conveniently forget to fulfill the second half of the deal. Not only was there the looming threat of death eclipsing each of her plans, but she couldn’t leave Yellow Pearl behind, either.  She remembered what White Pearl had said so long ago about the danger of thought, and she now understood it better than ever. Once a pearl fully realised the profound injustice of her situation, the unfathomable cruelty of being _owned_ , and the inability to do anything about it, it would drive her mad.

   Prison hadn’t always been this miserable. Blue Pearl had once thought it was the best life imaginable. She was a pearl, and this was what it meant to be a pearl, unwanted assgrabs and  nonexistent autonomy included. A part of her still felt that way. It was the worldview she had been fed from the moment she was formed, and the idea that it had been nothing but lies this entire time frightened her unimaginably. She attempted to justify the existence of these pained emotions within a being that was apparently inherently subserviant as simply being a true test of her obedience and not a sign that the system was actually wrong. Besides, when you swept away all of that silly Bad Stuff, there were still many aspects of Homeworld that she genuinely cherished, such as the invaluable companionship of her fellow high-end gems — her friends. Sometimes the generals would let their pearls — a step below her in value — loose, and they would race through the twisting, turning hallways to find the Diamonds' pearls. Together they would all sing and dance and laugh and swim and gossip and play cards for days on end. There were White Diamond’s notorious parties, so delightful that even she could forgive the noise. Oh, and she couldn’t forget the free massages, of course. She was entitled to them whenever she pleased, and she indulged herself regularly. Even her masseuse was a luxury pearl, a pretty cream one with curls so shimmery you wanted to reach out and touch and see if your fingers came away gold-dusted. Then there was Yellow Pearl, snooty bird, because the past was the past and they now had a present to share, even if they had to keep it under wraps so that they were not discovered and viciously shattered. But such pleasures had grown terribly difficult to enjoy now that she’d spent a single sixty seconds pondering how Blue Diamond could possibly claim to love her while shoving her in a cage and dangling her like salted meat above a pack of rabid, frothing animals. Until she figured out what kind of love that was, she wasn’t certain that the dark, heavy cloud perpetually looming over her head would drift away any time soon.

   She had always been humble. It was the number one rule to her self-preservation. Her meekness — she didn’t even have a pair of outwardly-visible eyes to narrow in defiance — was adored to the point where it was fetishistic. But once upon a time she had not only _felt_ she was the best, but _known_ that she was the best, and along with that had come a bit of ego. Just a bit; just enough to be acceptable so long as she made it clear that she was proud of being a _Diamond’s_ pearl and not a pearl. A bit of sass, a bit of flair, cocking hips and a little smirk and a puffed-out chest. Where had it all gone? Now that she’d dared to use her mind, it was like she’d forgotten how to correctly be a pearl. She wished that she could remember so that life stopped hurting. Those stupid, impulsive thoughts had shifted the tides forever, and she couldn’t stamp out the lingering fire no matter how many damn times she tried. It was all her fault. She deserved it for being rebellious. She would have to suffer and fight an eternal mental battle for the rest of her life until some part of it trickled out of her mouth and Blue Diamond ended her out of mercy. Perhaps his was the natural cycle of every pearl’s life, and her time had come.

   Blue Diamond’s voice cut through her thoughts.  “What do you think of the universe, my pearl?”

   A surge of panic coursed through Blue Pearl. Of all the Homeworld games, mind-picking was the trickiest to play. Minds were free to go anywhere, and it was solely up to their owners to determine which trails of thought were acceptable to speak of. The correct answers netted praise, whereas the wrong answers ended in contempt and a potential step closer to death. Over time, she steadily began to learn which words her Diamond liked to hear, but there was always a matter of guessing involved. 

   Blue Pearl did not like betting her life on guesses. She was not permitted to feel hatred, but if she was, she would hate guesses the most, followed by cages and weapons that annihilated entire planets and dented solar systems. But despite her pseudo-hatred, she had been betting her life on guesses for thousands of years now. This was part of being a pearl. Changing that was out of her control.

   “Whatever you would like for me to think, my Diamond.”

   “No,” Blue Diamond said.

   Blue Pearl flinched.

   “Tell me what _you_ think. Surely there’s something.”

   “Oh,” Blue Pearl whispered, her hands folded neatly in front of her. She wasn’t asked for her genuine opinion very often. Blue Diamond preferred to hear repeats of her own thoughts. A pearl using her mind was still a very dangerous thing, after all, and not wishing to accidentally reveal any of her rebellious monologues, she went with the facts. “I…well, the universe is very big.”

    _(Please stop destroying it.)_

   “There are so many stars.”

    _(I’d like to see them all.)_

   “…It’s beautiful.”

    _(And why won’t you take me to Earth?)_

   “Shall I continue, my Diamond?”

    _(Please, if you would take me to Earth just once, then I could—)_

   “No,” Blue Diamond said. “That’s enough.”

   They fell silent, and Blue Pearl gazed upwards at the star map before her. It was a massive black backdrop, blacker than the void itself, littered with showers of specks coloured either white, blue, yellow or red depending on their colonisation status or lack thereof. It was menacing. Not even standing next to a Diamond made her feel as small as the star map did. 

   Blue Diamond squinted. “What is that?” She pointed. “Zoom in.”

   Blue Pearl pinched the touchscreen and zoomed in on a planet with a bouncing pink marker above it. She tapped the marker, and the profiles of two occupying gems loaded up.

   She gasped softly.

   It was a rose quartz, and a pearl.

   A common one, probably. Nothing special. If she were anything worth her salt, Blue Pearl would have known her already. Still, though she’d once fancied herself superior to the street pearls in every way imaginable, Blue Pearl knew now that if you were to lock them in a cage together and put them in a town square to be gawked at, they would be equals. Nobody would discriminate when it came to talking about how much they wanted to lay their filthy, grabbing hands on an innocent pearl whether she belonged to Blue Diamond or Rose Quartz. Each and every pearl started as a nucleus, and thousands of layers of nacre—

   “...Pink has been sending soldiers out of spite again, hasn’t she.” Blue Diamond stood. “Call them.”

   Oh no.

   “A-ah...”

   Oh no.

   “Call them,” Blue Diamond repeated. “Tell them to come back to Homeworld immediately.”

   Oh no. Oh no, no, no. 

   Blue Pearl swallowed thickly. It barely went down. She was not good at passing on these confrontational orders. She was far too shy. Sometimes the anxiety overwhelmed her to the point where she lost her words entirely. She could already feel it brewing.

   “Pearl?”

   “Y-yes, my Diamond,” Blue Pearl sputtered weakly.

   “Good,” Blue Diamond said. “I’ll be back later.”

   Blue Pearl watched as her master departed, leaving her and the communicator behind. She was sweating so badly that she could hardly clench her slippery fists. She detested making calls. Her voice was softer than silk and nobody ever listened to her the way they would listen to the other pearls. Instead, they droned on about how cute she looked and how they had sworn she didn’t have a voice at all and how much they wanted a pretty, fuckable pearl of their very own.

   She raised a trembling finger and hovered over ‘CALL’.  She had to call. She had to. She absolutely had to. If she didn’t, if she did not, maybe Blue Diamond would toss her in a cage again and—

   With that thought in mind, her finger came down, and the call fired up.

    _Ring._

   One. 

    _Ring._

   Two.

   Her heart thumped so hard she thought her ribcage might burst. Oh stars, oh sweet stars above, somebody help her—

    _Ring._

   Three. The ringing was so loud it felt like her teeth were rattling. What if the rose quartz didn’t pick up? Had she been saved?

   “Hello?”

   “…Hello,” Blue Pearl whispered, and with that final word, every muscle in her body froze and her lips sealed tightly and her speech locked itself away inside of her.

   The rose quartz gasped on the other end. _“Wow,”_ she breathed, her lips lifting into a rich smile that radiated warmth like a blanket. “Look at you. You must be Blue Diamond’s. Pearl, come look!” 

   She waved her pearl over, and a pair of white hands snatched the communicator down. 

   Beneath her hair, Blue Pearl’s eyes widened to the size of moons.

   What a pretty pearl.

   “You weren’t lying, Rose!” the pearl cried. She was grinning madly and her eyes were as bright as stars. “Wow. Oh, wow. You’re something, aren’t you? It’s nice to meet you! I’m Pearl. But you knew that already, didn’t you? I’m sure my nose gave it away.”

   Blue Pearl said nothing.

   The pearl turned sheepish. Apparently Bismuth was right: her jokes were not funny. “Yes, well. Not a fan of talking, are you?”

   Blue Pearl said nothing.

   The pearl blinked, then cleared her throat. 

   Blue Pearl said nothing. She was dazed.

   “Okay,” Pearl said. “I’ll just be—…oh?”

   Blue Pearl suddenly produced an electronic notepad. She scribbled a message on the page in Gem with her finger and held it up.

_Sometimes, I get nervous, and my mouth stops working._

   Pearl silently re re-read the note several times before it sank in. Selective mutism. Of course. She had met more pearls affected by it than she could count. “That’s okay,” she said, smiling sympathetically. “Talking can be exhausting, can’t it?”

   “You would know, Pearl,” Rose Quartz teased. “You’re such a chatterbox.”

    _“Rose!”_

   Blue Pearl stared at them curiously. How odd. How peculiar. The pearl was talking bold and free, and her owner did not scold her. The opposite, in fact: she seemed to be encouraging it. She looked the pearl up and down. She was lovely, unblemished, well-figured — perhaps not as average as she had originally thought. Her gemstone had recently been polished. She looked fit and healthy. Everything about her was normal. So then why didn’t she act like it?

   Pearl looked away. “You’re not going to berate me, are you?” 

_I don’t know what you’re talking about._

   “I spoke to one of you a long time ago,” Pearl explained. “The yellow pearl. I called the line by accident. She…wasn’t exactly a fan.”

_She's a fan of herself and Yellow Diamond._

   “I figured that out after she called me a raggedy street pearl and hung up on me,” Pearl laughed. “I was just trying to be friendly!”

   Friendly. Blue Pearl let that sink in. This peculiar little pearl had been brave enough to extend herself to them, unlike those pathetic petrified saps that sometimes called in and burst into tears before they got so much as a word out. But why? Why in the world would she bother with gems of an entirely different league? With gems that had direct links to Diamonds? Surely she understood that her odd behaviour was enough to warrant a report and an investigation. What bravery. Or was it stupidity?

    _You’re a very strange pearl. You talk so much. You don’t ask for permission. You took your communicator right out of your owner’s hands. What happened to you? Were you made wrong? Are you a hologram?_

   Pearl’s face twisted. “No! No, I’m not a hologram, for heaven’s sake. It’s…listen, it’s…it’s a very long story. If you think I’m wrong, then I suppose I can’t change your mind. But I don’t see why I—…”

_Get off of that planet._

   “What?”

_I know you can read._

_Go._  

   Pearl looked at Rose, and then back to Blue Pearl. “Why?”

_I like you. You’re very pretty. You're very brave to talk to me. I don’t want you to die. You don’t deserve to die. But Blue Diamond doesn’t want you there. So go, please. Go._  

   Blue Pearl caught sight of the luscious green and pink flora surrounding the pearl, and awe tinged with bitter jealousy rose from deep within her. She was beginning to doubt that Pink Diamond had sent these gems. They had come here on their own accord, hadn’t they? Then that meant…maybe, just maybe, this bizarre pearl could help her...

   She shoved her notepad directly into Pearl’s face.

_6468376992157._

_That’s my private communication number…_

_Don’t give it to anyone else, or I’ll tell everyone that you’re weird._

   “Rude.”

_When you can, tell me everything, please. I want to know what happened to you. Please, tell me how you ended up so strange._

   “Ahem. Rude, again.”

_Go, please. Go._

   Pearl looked at Rose again. They held a silent conversation.

   “Okay,” she decided.

   The screen went black. The star map loaded back up. The pink marker bounced once, twice, three times, then began moving away from the planet and back to Homeworld.


End file.
